r w*H| 




9 > > 


JB^ 33 1 


» :> 


> y b 


J^J^ 3 5) f* 


> 3 


* > > 


^^^9* 33> Z% 


r y; 


> s> 


~^99 XX> H^^ 


> 3 


> i) - 


!Z^^ ^»~~^ 


3D 


> > 


^3^ -j» j^^ 


3 ■> 


>> ^» 


23^ ^r> >, ^^ 


3.> 


>.,> 


3^^^ X>>Z^ 


3) 


3>T> 


^^* i>5tlj^ 


>iO 


3^> »> 


~I3^~~~Ue>Z^^ 


3:> 


>m> 


C5EII3> 


3: 


> eo 


jQI|j3^ 


33 


3 sce> 


s^ 


3 > 


3s>3 


Jl5|1> 


> s> 


3^3 


n>'l»5r> 


3 3 


3^13 


'Z^'^sO- 


I>S> 


^Q>5> 


3* fig? 


3Z> 


>3>£> 


:3> ?>3> 


> 3 


>'3>X> 


".z>>5> : 


3 3 


>3SO 


:z>>f> ■■■ 


3 *3 




Z^v»> 3 


> 3 

► 3 


>3 £> 


Z2> v^> 3 


► ^> 



Z> _>■" a» 




~> "jcr>^3C 


» "> ■ 


Z>Z» 3 




jto > 


J» > ! 


> Z>Z> Z> 


,,,. 


r>D>3 


^ 


3>^> Z> 


*»>» 


Z>-0> ~>1 


l» 


3>3 ^3 




t^5 >J 


► as>* 


^>Z> £> 


• £*> 


>33 


► i |g|9 


3 3 3 


> ■ < 


>^>X> 


' 


33 3 




3»3>3l> 


. S2E2 o 


> >3 3 




~:>T>x>xi 


► >-'» 


3 3 3 




:*^>>)S> 


T> ■» 


► 33 ™> 


»)>, 


^>3 >> 


3 » 


» » ..J>. 




D>»2> > ?> 


► > :> 3 


;> .>• , > 


> >0 2> 


5> > 


> 333 


^J 1 


• *3->>> 


> '5 


» 3 3 3 


3D ... 


>3^> 5> 


z> Q 


» >> :> 


5?> V)» 


•»T)1> 


">■ >. 


» 3> 3 


3D ') 


>D ^> 


\3 -^ 


» 3>U> 


^ 7 ) 


30 j> 


^> 


» > > 3 


5J> j y 


>>X> 


■3- >^> 


*> 3 


33 3 > 


3o!> 


^>^y*3 


1*3:33 


)^j) 


>^ 


3p»33B 


*33Z> 


35 ^ 5 


>>2> 


T> >->^ 


* 33131 • ' .: 


>3J ) 


3V5> 


3> j 


» >7>2> 


oro 


;»3> 


^> ))1 


► i>) > 


■>.> > 


> j> 


3> ■>> : ■ 


*3>3 j 


s» > 


»3u> 


I> 3 • 


*>*>33 p 


mj> ) 


32> 


3> '>3 


► x>53 Z3 1 


>z> > 
>3 > 


»5> 

3 3 ; 


~> ^:j*> 


Sj>£>'^** 


► 33 3"^ 


» ^ 


>3 


> ^.>3.:^^ 


• 2>3 >3 


L> > 


> 7> ^ 


»3>3 ^» 


►33 DC 


>3 > 


3 > Z: 


> .->.>"> :» 


2fO 33 3 


3 3 


>3> ^ 


►3i> >'"^» 


o ^£» 3> -rs 


» > 


^ '^ 


> > j> ~j»- 


*£> ^S3>^>: 


> > 


~3B> "ZZ> 


■ -/> Ifr 


^> 3»>3 


3 > 


- 3SS>. ^> 


* >y> %■= 


i? -^2?^>- 


3 s> 




>>^3 C»- 


^ ^^ES^S 


> ^» 


! > > "t3^ 


^3 !5>t. 


§> ^2>Z3 


3 3 


S>3> Z^ 


0)> "^ 


\ ^^K-^ : 


> :> . 


j> ^ 7 ~^^ 


^> o :> ^ 


»3>7> ^^ ^> 


^* •>» 


--» -^< ^~~^^ 


-s-^si -fc 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. I 



<T/y*. , K.C..21J 



■z ^ 



UNITED STATES OP AMERICA 






1> o^>" 



%>^ 


J>1> 


"~^^» ^^^^^> Z^P 


> o 


35>? 


2SP 


^ ^?> 


?4 






~^ ^p -* -^^ 


E3^ 


r> :> >^ 


f-^-Hs 



:> >3 



» > > 

^3 33 > 

» > :» > " 



K33 



3 3 

111 
31. 



^^o 



) o 


JP3 


» O 


» 


> 


~<3^ * 


► > 


°30 


> 


"T^3> 




o 


:>.o 


■Z> 


^> 


■O 


^>3 


■^> 


~>~? 


dO 


~-y 



:>>:>>:> 






-» j 



VS'^ 



%\t terrible 00 tugs of <£oi. 



A SERMON 



DELIVERED \S THE 



COURT ST. BAPTIST CHURCH, PORTSMOUTH, VA. 



SABBATH MORNING, DEC. 30, 1855, 



COMMEMORATIVE OF TWENTY-EIGHT MEMBERS OF OLD DOMINION LODGE, NO. V , 
WHO DIED DURING T*HE LATE EPIDEMIC. 



ISAAC W.'K. HANDY, 

PASTOR OP THE FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, AND MEMBER OF THE ORDER. 



Published by Request of the Lodge. 



PORTSMOUTH: j 

PRINTED AT THE DAILY TRANSCRIPT OFFICE 
1856, 



<&§•> 

w 



SERMON 



Text. — Come and see the works of God: — He is terrible in His 
doing toward the children of men. — Psalm Lxvi. 5. 

There is something, even in the most familiar title of the Deity, calcu- 
lated to inspire every human intelligence with awe. He is God — the 
God of Heaven and of Earth, — the infinite, eternal, incomprehensible 
God — God, the creator — God, the upholder — God, "in whose hand, is 
the soul of every living thing, and the breath of all mankind." If men 
are not sensibly, and deeply impressed, even at the very mention of this 
the most common — the "everyday" appellative of Jehovah, it is because 
they are inconsiderate, and have no apprehension of that august Being, 
who "slumbereth not, nor sleepeth," and whose all-pervading eye is ever 
upon them, as well in the darkness, as in the light. There are those, how- 
ever, who can never make mention of His name, without the deepest 
emotions of awe. Thus it was with that eminent scholar and philoso- 
pher, Sir Robert Boyle. It is said of that truly great man : — " He en- 
tertained so profound a veneration for the Deity, that the very name of 
God, was never mentioned by him, without a pause, and a visible stop, 
in his discourse." — In this he was so exact, that an intimate acquaint- 
ance who had known him for forty years, could not remember, that he 
had failed in it, in a single instance. 

God is the same, yesterday, to-day, and forever. Yet, immutable as 
He is, and ever presenting the same glorious array of perfections, which 
it is the bounden duty of all intelligences to study, and as far as possi- 
ble to know — nevertheless, the depths of His infinite mind have never 
yet been fathomed ; and no being, on earth, or in Heaven, has ever been 
able wholly, to comprehend Him. Such knowledge is too wonderful, even 
for the most exalted ones: — " Canst thou by searching, find out God? 
Canst thou find out the Almighty, to perfection ? It is as high as Heav- 
m ; what caust thou do? — deeper than Hell ; what canst thou know ? — 
The measure thereof is longer than the earth, and broader than the sea." 

Such then, is Jehovah. He is a God of mystery / '* Clouds and dark- 



oessare round about him " — He docs not choose to he known. Just and 
righteous as He is, in all His ways, He nevertheless prefers to hide Him- 
self from the scrutiny of men: — " Verily, thou art a God that hideth 
thyself." 

His very existence is a mystery. He is uncreated and eternal. This 
great truth is admitted ; but who can understand it ? Not one ! 

So too, the designs of God are involved in mystery. We know, in- 
deed, that, "for His own glory, all things are, and were created ;" but 
who can understand the minute and intricate workings of His great plan ? 
Occasionally, we may catch a glimpse of some separate movement of His 
hand, and by a careful and suitable watching of His peculiar providen- 
ces, we may understand the bearings of individual events ; but for the 
most part, we must confess our ignorance of what God intends. Clear 
enough, indeed, become the operations of His powerful hand, when any 
subordinate design has been matured ; but who, I repeat it, can predict 
with accuracy, the connections and results of the world's progress, as 
they bear each day, even upon the revelations of inspired and unerring 
prophecy? — " For who hath known the mind of the Lord : or who hath 
been his counsellor ?" 

God is not less mysterious in His works, than He is as to His exis- 
tence and designs. He "doeth great things and unsearchable; mar- 
vellous things without number." This testimony of Job is equally de- 
clarative of the strangeness, as of the magnitude of His works. His 
hand is a mighty hand, weighing the very mountains as in a balance ; 
but even at this, we are not so much amazed, as we often are at those 
doings of His sovereignty, which so palpably contradict our finite notions 
of His justice and honor. How often are individuals startled, at results 
which can only be traced to the Divine interposition ; and yet, which in 
their short-sightedness, would blot the fair escutcheon of Jehovah's pu- 
rity! How often, indeed, are whole communities aroused, in terror, to 
realize some devastating woe, sent by His terrible Majesty, to overwhelm 
and destroy them ! Are these the tender mercies of that benevolent 
God, to whom we sing: — 

"O give to every human heart, 
To taste and feel, how good thou art ; 
With grateful love, and holy fear 
To know how hlest thy childien are?" — 

It is even so ! — "He is a mighty God, and terrible;" — "for the Lord 
Most High is terrible; He is a great king over all the earth." It is to 
this strange feature of the Divine character, that your attention is called 



this day : and in order that the subject may be fairly before us, I would 
say to this congregation, in the language of the Psalmist, and of the 
text : — (i Come and see the works of God ; He is terrible in His doing 
towards the children of men.''' 

The Doctblne presented for your consideration, is this: — The dispen- 
sations of God towards the children of men, are sometimes of the most 
awful and terrific character. 

It is not always so. Ordinarily, the dealings of God with the race of 
man are exceedingly bland, and benignant. He is a bountiful benefactor, 
supplying all their wants. " lie maketh His sun to shine, on the just, 
and on the unjust. He cause th grass to grow for the cattle, and herb 
for the service of man, that he may bring forth food out of the earth, 
and wine that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face 
to shine, and bread which strengthened man's heart." Amid the ca- 
lamities of life, he is a true and constant friend, offering comfort to the 
distressed, and binding up the broken heart. He stands by the couch of 
the fevered sufferer ; relieves his pain ; strengthens his wasting frame ; 
and redeems his life from destruction. Or, if, in the allotment of His 
watchful and unerring providence, an earthly career is about to termi- 
nate, He deserts not His faithful servant, in thjs the last trying hour ; 
but encouraging him with that precious promise — ' ' When thou passest 
through the waters I will be with thee ; and through the rivers they shall 
not overflow thee," — the dying saint is enabled, confidently, to recline 
upon the arm of his God, and without a regret or a tear, he calmly, but 
triumphantly exclaims : " 0, death ! where is thy sting ? 0, grave ! where 
is thy victory ? " 

But the great Jehovah chooses sometimes to deviate from this His 
course of smiles and of love. Anon, He rouses Himself in his anger, 
and in the infinitude of His might, presents Himself before the aston- 
ished gaze of the world, as a God " fearful in praises doing wonders." 

In illustrating this doctrine, it is important to notice — 

I. The Fact. We should contemplate things as they are. — How- 
ever interesting it may be, to dwell upon those attributes and works of 
the Deity, which so evidently present Him before an admiring world, as 
a God of consummate love ; it will not do to shut cur eyes to that other 
aspect of his character, which is calculated to inspire us, with emotions 
, of awe, and by which we are brcught, tc realise our own insignificance, 
and to regard this earth itself, " as the small dust of the balance." 

It is not my purpose, at present, to refer to those varied calamities, oc- 



eurring in every age of the world ; under any circumstances of life ,' 
and signalizing individuals of the race. The ten thousand ills, to which 
flesh is heir, arc all, doubtless, under the control of Providence; and the 
permission, or designation of these, may afford a suitable theme for med- 
itation and enquiry ; but such we pass. The text invites us, to 
contemplate those strange exhibitions of His tremendous power, by 
which, not simply isolated individuals, but whole families, communi- 
ties, and nations are involved in desolation ; or swept away, as by the 
besom of ruin. 

1. Look, for example, at the destructive innuridztion /—Thriving, and 
industrious neighborhoods are pursuing the arts of life. A thousand 
beautiful farms open along the fertile shores of some gay stream of the 
West. A genial sun, and growing showers, bring joy and gladness to 
the heart of the husbandman. The bluff, and luxuriant crops, wave 
gracefully, before the passing breeze. The prospect speaks of abun- 
dance and comfort. But, what a change may come over this scene, in 
a few short hours ! Suddenly, that rippling stream begins to rise — inch 
by inch, it moves upward, and along the crumbling banks. The swol- 
len and turbid waters dash furiously onward. The work of des- 
truction has commenced. Every sluice experiences the effect of 
the tide. The back-water has gone, far up the ravines. The moving 
surges sweep the drift wood from the bottoms. The axe-man rushes, to 
the scene of his toil — he would save his carefully piled cords ; but al- 
ready they have tumbled ; and away they glide, into the rolling deep. — 
And now, those inexorable waters strike the fond hopes of the husband- 
man. His enclosures are tottering — thousands of logs float, irrecover- 
ably, amid the drift, and lost fuel. The waving corn is seen no more ; 
for the flood sweeps far above its highest tops. But, will this scene of 
destruction continue? Alas! it is but the beginning of sorrows. All 
is dismay. The very animals of the field, and of the stall, are alarmed ; 
and rushing wildly, to the neighboring summits, bleat forth their cries 
of distress. The swelling tide, now, rolls into every crevice of the set- 
tler's cabin. Parad venture, he may yet escape, with his wife and babes. 
Bat ft may be, that the fearful •« rise" has occurred in the night; and 
&3»> bo^ terrible tha ruin I — The very cabin is lifted from its founda- 
tions. Perchance, it may float buoyantly along, until it reaches some 
place of safe deposit. But, not unfrequently, timbers have been separa-^ 
ted ; females have been borne upon their beds, on the bosom of the wa- 
jers ; infants have b-ccn carried aw-y in their cradles; parents and chil- 



•dren have been sundered, in the general wreck ; many valuable lives 
have been lost ; and long after the devastating flood has ceased its wast- 
ing plunder, thousands have been left to suffer, and to starve. 

Such is but a faint picture, of what has often occurred, in the valley 
of the Mississippi. There have been frequent inundations of that great 
river, and its tributaries ; resulting, at times, in the destruction of mil- 
lions of property, and of numerous lives. 

In other parts of the world, there have been floods occurring, at dis- 
tant intervals, of the most appalling and terrific character. 

In April, 1446, the sea rolled back upon the land, at Dort, in conse- 
quence of a rupture of the dykes; and formed, what is now known, as 
the Zuyder sea. By this calamity, ten thousand persons in the territory 
of Dordretch, were overwhelmed, and perished ; and the same direful 
results befel more than one hundred thousand persons about Dullart, in 
Friesland, and in Zealand. In the last two provinces, mere than three 
hundred villages were submerged ; and for centuries afterwards, the tops 
of towers, and steeples could be seen rising out of the water. 

On the 26th and 27th November, 1703, a storm raged in Great Brit- 
ain, which alarmed the entire kingdom. The stately buildings of the 
great city of London were shaken ; and many of them tumbled to the 
ground. The water rose to a great height in Westminister Hall ; and 
London bridge was choked up with wrecks. Fourteen ships of war 
were lost; and fifteen hundred Seamen perished. The damage done to 
the city was cstimatsd at one million of pounds sterling. 

In February, 1830, the dwellings of fifty thousand inhabitants of 
Vienna, were laid under water. 

In consequence of long continued rains, an inundation was occasioned 
at Canton, in China, which deluged and ruined ten thousand houses;— 
and ten thousand persons were drowned, or otherwise perished. In tho 
same month, and year, October, 1833, equal or greater calamity, was 
produced by the same cause in other parts of China. 

In May, 1849, the citizens of New Orleans, and its vicinity, were 
filled with consternation, in consequence of the sudden influx of the wa- 
ters of the Mississippi, occasioned by a crevasse in the levee above the 
city. The scene is represented as being truly awful. One hundred and 
forty feet of the bank, had in one place been washed away; and the 
heavy; rapid river, rolled irresistably through the opening, though a 
thousand active hands were endeavoring to stop its ingress ; and the roar 
of the dashing waters could be heard for miles. Many hundred acres 



Were completely submerged — numerous houses stood deep in the flood- 
many of the people fled, willingly leaving their property to its fate, whilst 
others remained in the upper stories of their dwellings, sick and in hor- 
ror. The condition of the poor was deplorable in the extreme. 

2. Another of those ways in which the Great Jehovah speaks terribly 
to the children of men, is, by cutting off the accustomed supply of food. 
No calamity can possibly equal this. To be without food is to die — slow- 
ly, and in agony to die. "He who dies of hunger wrestles alone, day af- 
ter day, with his grim and unrelenting enemy. The blood recedes ; the 
flesh deserts; the muscles relax, and the sinews grow powerless. At 
last, the mind, which, at first, had bravely nerved itself for the contest, 
gives way, under the mysterious influences, which govern its union with 
the body. Then he begins to doubt the existence of an overruling 
Providence ; he hates his fellow men, and glares upon them with the 
longing of a cannibal; and, it may be, he dies blaspheming !"* — Let the 
raging surges dash upon my dwelling — let my frightened soul quiver in 
expectation of a watery grave — let me go down into the vasty deep, 
smothered, drowned ; but let me not die of famine ! 

It is remarkable, with what regularity and abundance, God usually 
supplies the millions of earth. Ordinarily, man, in his rudest state, 
has enough and to spare ; but especially, is it true, in the history of those 
countries, where even the simplest rules of agriculture are observed, and 
habits of industry prevail; that the blessing of God is realized, and his 
benevolent promise, ' ' he that tilleth his land, shall have plenty of bread," 
— =1 was about to say — unfailingly verified. Nevertheless, there are 
times, when men have no bread; when from the failure of crops, or oth- 
er providential causes, whole communities and countries, are brought to 
the direst extremity ; and their very extermination is threatened. What 
scenes of woe have been witnessed ! Hunger, rapacious hunger, is 
preying upon the vitals. The most loathsome, revolting substances are 
eagerly sought for food. The objects that once interested the soul, are 
now of little worth. Gay equipage — elegant attire — magnificent halls — 
luxury— titles— thrones — all, all are valuless — insignificant. Those 
kind emotions that usually bind man to his fellow ; those tender sympa- 
thies that spring up in the breast of friends ; those natural ties that ce- 
ment the hearts of parents and children ; of husbands and wives ; these 
are all broken — forgotton ; and poor, wretched humanity is a spectacle 
to the Universe, of selfishness and disgust. 

The sacred Scriptures record several instances of direful famine, 

* S. S. Prentice. 



The most remarkable one was the seven years famine in Egypt, whilst 
Joseph was the president of the country. It was distinguished for con- 
tinuance, extent, and severity ; and it is the more remarkable as having 
occurred in a country distinguished for fertility, and the abundance of 
its natural productions. 

In the year 262, there was a famine in England, of so grievous a char- 
acter, that the people were obliged to feed upon the bark of trees. 

Another occurred A. D. 310, in the same country, when forty thou- 
sand human beings starved to death. 

In the year 450 a famine prevailed in Italy, when parents murdered 
and fed upon their own children. 

A dreadful famine occurred in England, A. D. 1315, occasioned by 
perpetual rains, and cold weather, which entirely cut off the harvest and 
destroyed thousands of cattle. The extremity became so great, that the 
people eagerly devoured the flesh of horses, dogs, cats and vermin, 

During the siege of Londonderry, in Ireland, a famine resulted of the 
most distressing character. This famine is not referred to, however, so 
much to illustrate the peculiar doctrine of the text, as to exhibit the great 
extremity to which men are sometimes subjected when deprived of their 
usual supplies. It is stated in Walker's diary, that on the 27th July, 
1689 — " Horse flesh sold for one shilling and eight pence per pound ; a 
quarter of a dog, four shillings and six pence ; a dog's head two shil- 
lings and sixpence ; a cat four shillings and sixpence ; a rat one shilling ; 
a mouse sixpence ; a pound of tallow four shillings ; a pound of salted 
hides one shilling ; a quart of horse blood one shilling ; a horse pudding 
sixpence ; a quart of meal, when found, one shilling ; a small fluke, a 
little fish taken in the river, could not be purchased for money, and 
could only be got in exchange for meal." 

Few countries have su.Tered more from famine than Ireland. Even 
within our own times ; and as late as 1845 and 1S46, the accounts 
which came to us, from that devoted island, were distressing beyond 
measure. Said the eloquent Prentice, when pleading in behalf of this 
wretched people — " Within Erin's borders is an enemy more cruel than 
the Turk, more tyranicai than the Russian. Bread is the only weapon 
that can conquer him. Let us, then, load ships with this glorious muni- 
tion, and, in the name of our common humanity, wage war against this 
despot Famine." 

3. And now, what shall I s&y of ihe devouring pestilence. This is 
another of those agents, commissioned by the Almighty, to execute His 

B 



1 



10 

sovereign will amongst the children of men. Many of the diseases, to 
which the race is liable, are evidently the results of negligence, impru- 
dence, or presumption, on the part of those who are the subjects of them ; 
audit is not to be wondered, that they who are indifferent to natural laws, 
should suffer the recompense due to their folly. But there are maladies 
incident to the human race — resulting, it is true, like all other diseases, 
from natural causes — and yet, the afflicted subjects of these complaints, 
have had no agency whatever, in their superinduction ; and they can on- 
ly be accounted for in the sovereignty of Jehovah. I must not, howev- 
er, in this remark, be understood to intimate, that man is an innocent 
sufferer. Of this, I shall speak presently. I wish now, simply to sug- 
gest, that those stupendous calamities, which sometimes befal man- 
kind are to be regarded, as what indeed they are, visitations ; 
permitted, overruled, or imposed, by God Himself, and without any di- 
rect agency on the part of those who suffer. 

Epidemics not unfrequently occur in country places ; but they have 
usually infested the larger towns and cities. Here among congregated 
thousands, their ravages are appalling ; and scenes of human wretched- 
ness are brought out, in their most woful relations. It is at such times 
that God proves himself a terrible God. The stoutest hearts quail be- 
fore Him. The brave mariner, who has tossed upon the mountain wave, 
and who, without'a shudder, has encountered the perils of rude and 
fearful storms — the veteran soldier, who has faced the cannon's mouth ; 
and whose very soul has been gladdened amid the din, and clash, and 
smoke of ten thousand arms — the calm philosopher, whose sober reason 
has consoled him amid the strangest ills— the morose and rigid stoic, 
who submits to whatever is, because Fate has so decreed, and who is 
reconciled to his own approaching dissolution as a debt due to Nature — ■ 
all these forget their accustomed assurances, and beholding the steady 
tread of the Destroyer, as he moves, inexorably through the lanes and 
alleys, bringing death and ruin into every house ; and watching, still, 
his onward progress as now he stalks boldly up the stately avenue, 
knocking with iron hand at every door, and chilling the life-blood of the 
easy, and the great — these, all — the mariner, the soldier, the philoso- 
pher, the stoic — are stricken with horror, even as others, and with coun- 
tenances full of nervous fright they meditate plans of escape ; and by 
the first train, that leaves the doomed city, they speed themselves, 
with the rushing multitude, far from the scenes of woe. 

There are brief notices extant, of plagues that have wasted the earth at 



11 

almost every period of its history. One of the earliest which has come 
to our knowledge, is that mentioned by Baronius ; and which raged at 
Carthage, some five hundred years before the Christian era. So terrible 
was it, that the people sacrificed their children, hoping thus to ap- 
pease the G-ods. But the first great plague, of which we have any spec- 
ial account, is that so particularly described by Thucidides ; and which 
visited the city of Athens, A. D. 430. The physicians are said to have 
been entirely ignorant of the disease ; and all human art appeared to be 
utterly unavailing. So general was the slaughter, that the dead were 
frequently found lying together in heaps. They tumbled over one an- 
other in the public streets ; and many expired at the fountain, whither 
they had crept to quench their immoderate thirst. The mortality at- 
tending this visitation, has been so largely computed, as to be scarcely 
credible. This plague was succeeded at various intervals by others, 
which cut off millions of the human family. 

Pliny mentions a pestilence which raged B. C. 188, in the G-reek isl- 
ands, Egypt and Syria, and which hurried ten thousand persons into 
eternity every day. 

We have an account of a most awful pestilence, which visited the city 
of Rome, A. D. 78, when the number of deaths actually reached ten 
thousand a day. 

According to the historian, Gibbon, a plague devastated the Roman 
empire for fifty-two years ; commencing in the reign of Jostinian, A. D. 
527 ; and the entire mortality, during this period, he supposes to have 
been not less than two millions. 

In 1517, the sweating sickness, a disease that produced death in three 
hours, raged in England. Half of the people in most of the capital 
towns are said to have died ; and the city of Oxford was depopulated. 

A general mortality prevailed in France, A. D. 1632, and sixty 
thousand persons perished, in the city of Lyons, alone. 

The plague brought from Sardinia to Naples, raged with such violence 
A. D. 1656, as to carry off four hundred thousand of the inhabitants in 
six months. 

Defoe has given us a vivid description of the terrible plague which 
raged in the city of London in 1664 and 1665. This awful pestilence 
has usually been styled "The Great Plague," perhaps from a prevailing 
opinion that no other pestilence has exceeded it, either in virulence or 
destructiveness. This is an error ; but those years must ever be memora- 
ble as years of woe. The population of the city, is estimated by Mac- 



12 

a.uky, to have been, at that time, about half a million; but before the 
middle of summer '65, at least two hundred thousand persons had hur- 
ried to places of safety. According to the official accounts, notwith- 
standing this great reduction of the population, there had died in twelve 
months, counting from Dec. 20th, to Dec. 19th following, 68,596; but 
according to Defoe, not less than 100,000. The mortality reached its 
height in the month of September. During the third week of that 
month, there were 7165 deaths. About this time, "the citizens were in 
a frenzy ; they thought that God had determined to make an end of the 
city. Whole families, and indeed, whole streets of families were swept 
away together ; insomuch, that it was frequent for neighbors to call for 
the bellman, to go to such and such houses, and carry out the people, 
for that they were all dead I" 

The most fearful plagues, which of late years have scourged the world, 
are Cholera and Yellow Fever. The first of these, in the very onset of 
its progress, made great ravages in the north, east, and south of Europe, 
and in the countries of Asia, where, alone, it carried off 900,000, with- 
in two years. In our own country, both of these alarming diseases 
have been epidemic, in most of the larger cities. They have laid waste 
the fairest portions of our land ; and again, and again, they have snatch- 
ed from our embrace, the loved objects of our hearts. 

I shall not detain you, my hearers, with any farther illustrations. A 
vast amount of statistics might be adduced, exhibiting the stupendous pow- 
er of the Almighty. I might refer you to the storm, and to the earth- 
quake i it might also, be illustrative of my subject, to speak of the de- 
vouring fire, and of the devastations of war, which — though man him- 
self, may have a criminal agency in producing them — must after all be 
admitted, to occur, only, when God chooses to allow ; and which, in 
all their destructiveness are overruled, and directed for his own glory. 
But enough has been said, to impress us with the conviction, that the 
God of the Bible, is a terr'ibh God. *' Come and see the icorks of God ; 
He is terrible in Hi doing towards tie children of men." 

II. We shall now notice why it is, that God chooses, sometimes, to 
deal so terribly with the children of men. 

We have already remarked, that the doings of God, are often deeply 
mysterious. It is certain, however, that God does not act from whim, 
or without a motive. He is a God of wisdom ; and for all He does, He 
has a reason. Our finite minds may not be able to comprehend the ful- 
ness of His designs ;. but in so far as we are capable of knowledge, it is 



our duty to be informed. One of those things which we shall never in 
this world, be able fully to comprehend, is the fact, that a Being, of 
mercy and of love, can willingly afflict His intelligent creatures : send- 
ing into their midst the messenger of ruin, and consigning them in mul- 
titudes to untimely graves. And the difficulty is greatly increased, when 
we find Him, addressing Himself alike to the indifferent and the useful, 
the scoffer and the believer, the disobedient and the truly pious — and 
all of them, without apparent discrimination or distinction, being swept 
away by the impartial scourge. It is wise, however, at once, and un- 
der all circumstances, to admit the excellence and infallibility of our 
great Creator ; and if our minds are darkened, in relation to these aw- 
ful doings of His hand, it becomes us, rather, to attribute this darkness, 
to our own finite intelligence ; and not to any imperfection, on the part 
of that infinite mind, that seeth the end from the beginning, and whose 
throne is justice and mercy, though clouds and darkness are round about 
Him. 

" Mysterious these, 



Not that Jehovah to conceal them wished ; 
Mysterious these— hecause, too large for eye 
Of man— too long, for human arm to mete." 

It contemplating a subject, so much involved in difficulty, it becomes 
us to beware lest we impute to our Maker, a spirit of malevolence. The 
very thought is abhorrent. God cannot rejoice in evil. He is happy 
himself; and it is His benevolent will, that his creatures should be hap- 
py also. He made them, indeed, as well to this end, as for His own 
glory. 

" Heaven is all love ; all joy in giving joy 5 
It never had created, hut to hless." 

It is characteristic only, of corrupt, and fallen ones, to exult in the suf- 
ferings of others. God is incapable of such low, and fiendish delight. 
Besides, — to conceive of such feelings, on the part of a sovereign and in- 
dependent God, involves an absurdity. What has He to fear, from the 
most powerful beings, whom His own hand has formed? Who can op- 
pose Him with success ? — An Angel ? — Where now is proud Lucifer ? — 

" Fall, how profound ! 

From where proud hope, huilt her pavilion high, 
The Gods among ; hurled, headlong hurled, at once 
To night." 

But he does not rejoice, even, in the fall of his own wicked enemies. — 
No : — Justice may require their distraction — the well-being of the Uni- 
verse, may be involved in their very torments ; but He can never inflict 



14 

a pang, even, upon the vilest, simply to gratify a revengeful and ma- 
lignant spite. To do this, would imply weakness. To all this may he 
added, that, in the exercise of such feelings, He must cease to be a God 
of infinite purity ; and would at once be chargeable with all the frailty 
and passions of imperfect humanity. He is a God of vengeance, I admit ; 
but vengeance implies justice. He is the author of His own laws ; and 
He has a right, as an uncreated and absolute sovereign, to require obe- 
dience of whom He will, and of all — eminating as do those laws, from 
His own infinite and holy mind. To punish is His right ; and not only 
His right ; but it is suitable, and to be expected, that the immaculate 
Jehovah would execute His just wrath — but not His vindictiveness — 
against every daring and impious offender. 

Ignorant as we may be, in the main, of the reasons, which influence 
the Divine mind, in those extraordinary calamities, which sometimes be- 
fal the family of man ; we may, nevertheless, obtain some idea of what 
God intends. What then, we may now enquire, does God mean, by 
those wholesale destructions of the children of men; and by all that 
terror, and desolation with which He visits the devoted and dreaming 
masses ? — With all the darkness, that surrounds the subject, there are a 
few thoughts so important, that as an expounder of truth, we should 
greatly err in not enforcing them. 

1. That a suitable impression may be preserved, among the inhab- 
itants of earth, of His continued existence, and sovereignty. This, of it- 
self, is an important and sufficient reason ; for it is a singular fact that 
men do not remember God. Occupied as they are, with business and 
pleasure, they find little time to think of the invisible Supreme. Other 
objects are at hand — tangible and available. These so strongly appeal 
to the senses, and afford so much present and material comfort ; that 
any good, out of sight — though that good be God, Himself — is either 
wholly forgotten, or confusedly contemplated, as among the questionable 
things of a misty and uncertain future. " The fool, (the unregenerate 
man) has said in his heart, there is no God." He has not, perhaps, 
admitted it with his lips ; but he has lived and acted, as though there 
were no God ; and it may be that in the secrecy of his heart, he doubts 
the immortality of the soul ; and renouncing thus His accountability, he 
has really disclaimed the sovereign Judge of all the earth. Thus it has 
always been with the children of men, that, when "they have eaten, 
and are full, and have built goodly houses, and dwelt therein ; and when 
their herds and their flocks have multiplied, and their silver and their 



15 

gold have multiplied, and all that they have has multiplied, their hearts 
have been lifted up, and they have forgotten the Lord their God." 

But God must not be forgotten. He will not suffer himself to be lost 
in nothingness amid the numerous and wonderful objects of his own 
creation. He must be known and recognized. A sensible impression 
of His existence and majesty should be constantly felt. Without this, 
there can be no suitable adoration ; no devout and zealous obedience. — 
But the world is too hasty to turn aside to Him. The thousands of 
earth pass gayly on, filled with vain imaginations, and devising foolish 
inventions. This current must be turned, Jehovah must be regarded 
— accountability acknowledged — His holy laws respected ; and the great 
end of life appreciated. How are these important results to be accom- 
plished ? Ah ! if God cannot be heard in His still, small voice — if the 
gentle persuasions of His spirit continue to be disregarded ; He has yet, 
another voice; and there are other means at His disposal, by which He 
can, and will break their infatuation, and bring them to the acknowl- 
edgement of His infinite might — though on account of their long and 
obstinate persistence in evil, He may afterwards leave them to impeni- 
tence and hardness of heart. He can send a " terror by night," or a 
1 * destruction that shall waste at noon day ;" and as the Angel of Death 
spreads his dark wing, over the devoted city, the business hum shall 
cease ; the gay and the thoughtless shall no more be seen, upon her 
once thronged and bustling pavements ; a gloomy silence shall pervade 
her thorough-fares ; a general appalement shall prevail ; and the voice 
of God — that other voice shall be heard. Yes ; He shall send His swift 
arrow into a thousand hearts ; and as dear ones drop, one after another, 
into their solitary graves, the infidel himself, shall be astonished; and 
with blanched and trembling lip, he shall say — it is God! 

2. It is doubtless, the design of the Almighty, in all His extraordi- 
nary visitations, to impress both those who experience, and those who 
witness His judgments, with a, just and peculiar sense of dependence up- 
on Him. Such, should be the influence of all afflictions, however com- 
mon ; but the sufferings of an individual can have little effect, in arous- 
ing a community ; although, that individual be a person of eminence, 
and even, one in whom extensive circles may be deeply interested. To 
move the mass, it is necessary that they should be addressed, in some 
manner affecting them as a mass ; and yet the appeal must also have an 
individual and personal bearing. God, is every day speaking to whole 
communities, and nations, in the wonderful, and beautiful objects of His 



16 

creation, as the)' abundantly appear in the natural world ; and His voice 
is echoing forth its thunder tones, in the many revolutions and convul- 
sions occurring among states and empires. Interesting, however, as are 
these aspects ; and as deeply involved as is the world in all these events, 
very few are aroused to their proper consideration ; and the providence 
of God, so minutely concerned in them all, remains wholly unnoticed, 
by the great body of mankind. Thus unobservant, of that watchful 
care, which God exercises over all His creatures, they become vain of 
themselves ; and move on as if wholly independent of their Maker. Of- 
ten "becoming rich, and increased with goods, they imagine themselves 
to have need of nothing ; and know not, that they are wretched, and 
poor, and blind, and naked." Hence, it becomes necessary for God to 
make some personal appeal — an appeal, which while it addresses itself 
to individuals, shall be of so general a character, as to arouse the entire 
masses to reflection. 

There is no way, perhaps, in which this can be, so readily accom- 
plished, as by those fearful instrumentalities, which threaten entire com- 
munities with destruction. However careless, the people may heretofore 
have been ; now it is impossible, but, that they should feel. Finding 
themselves, utterly unable to accomplish any thing for their own relief — ■ 
turning in vain to the most constant friends for assistance — with the im- 
potence of the most powerful human agencies apparent — now in their 
extremity, they no longer exclaim : " Who is the Almighty, that we 
should serve Him : and what profit should we have, if we pray unto 
Him ?" — but in apprehension of sudden dissolution ; and with " a certain 
fearful looking for of Judgment," they lift their glaring eyes to Heaven ; 
and with that poor cowardly infidel, Paine, — wben in danger of being 
lost at sea — they cry, ' ' Lord have mercy on us !" 

Such were the very words, inscribed, upon the doors of infected, 
houses, during the "Great Plague" in London. — What must have 
been the feelings, of the solitary passenger, as he pushed hastily on, 
midway the deserted street ; noticing upon either side of him, and em- 
blazoned, upon almost every door, the huge red cross ; and written close 
beneath by the finger of the magistrate, those fearful words, "Lord 
have mercy on us /" But those very words were the evidence of that 
wisdom, which could only be learned by the terrible lesson of the plague — 
they were the extorted acknowledgement of human dependence ; and 
their history, as studied by us, thin day, teach us that, " Man's extrem- 
ity is God'.* opportunity." 



17 

*' Kings are not rescued, bv the foro» 

Of armies from the grave •, 
Nor speed, nor courage of a horse, 

Can the bold rider save. 
Vain is the stiength, of beast or m«n, 

To hope fot safety thence ; 
But holy souls, from God obtain 

A strong, a sure defence. 
God is their fear and God their truat, 

When plagues, or famine spread ; 
His watchful eye secures the just, 

Among ten thousand dead." 

3. Another important result, accruing, in a very special manner, from 
the terrible dispensations of God. is the developement of human character. 
It is difficult to know what man is. We have very little knowledge of 
our neighbor ; and — I was about to say — quite as little concerning our- 
selves ; and when all is smooth and pleasant — when there are no diffi- 
culties to be encountered ; no sufferings to be endured ; it is compara- 
tively easy to present a passable exterior ; but, as fire tries the gold, and 
proves what it is — so afflictions test the character of men, and prove, 
as in a furnace, all that is acceptable to God; and not only so — when 
the day of trial comes, the principles of the ungodly, too, are found to 
be worthless dross : fit only, like it, to be thrown away, and trampled 
under foot. Such is the effect of trials in all cases ; but the difficulties 
of individuals, can affect, only, individuals ; or must be confined in 
their influence to very limited circles. It is necessary, that communi- 
ties should be tried; for the very reason, that by a more extended test, 
of human character, the world may receive a vivid impression, of what 
is virtuous, as well as what is vile, in man. Any wide spread desola- 
tion is calculated to afford such a test. Fever, or famine, or flood — any, 
or, all of these will tell us more in a single day, than can be learned by 
an intimacy of years. 

If the predominant characteristic is selfishness ; that feature will de- 
velope itself in its meanest forms. Such a man will desert the wife of 
his bosom ; leaving her friendless and alone amid scenes of horror. To 
secure his base retreat, he would rob her of the last farthing, that might 
bring a comfort in the dying hour ; and if he imagines, that by a speedy 
flight, he can save his own worthless life ; he will leave her to die in 
hireling hands; and with breath but just extinct, to be hurried 
tended, to her half-dug, and careless grave. 

Among other sordid emotions, which so abundantly develope them- 
selves, during seasons of extensive suffering, is the principle of avarice. 

C 



18 

Men will do anything for money. They will not only manifest a eon- 
duct, which snail clearly indicate, what are their hopes, and expectations 
from the general distress ; but they will lay their plans, and throw them- 
selves in the way of some probable result, that may increase their for- 
tunes. Some men have permitted themselves, to be so carried away, 
with the lust of gain, as to risk life, when there was evidently no call of 
duty ; and loosing sight of every other consideration, they have devoted 
themselves, to the single object of accumulation, taking advantage when- 
ever they could, of the sufferings of others; and by a course of exaction, 
and over-reaching, they have cruelly enhanced the ills of many whose 
only hope, was in their sense of justice, and love of mercy. 

It would extend this discourse, beyond all proper limits, to speak par- 
ticularly of the different shades of character, likely to be brought out 
under the circumstances to which we now allude. It will be sufficient 
for the farther illustration of this point, to say, that they are not only the 
darker features of humanity, which are so conspicuously developed at 
such times. Depraved, and wicked, as is the natural complexion of the 
human heart, it is nevertheless true, that God has endowed the race, 
with many amiable and lovely instincts ; and at no time, do these show 
themselves, with more striking beauty, than in the hour of danger, and 
of sorrow. The affection of the doting wife, now proves itself, in all 
its purity, and strength. Duty binds her fond husband to the scene of 
suffering. She will not interpose between him and his conscience. 
But that noble woman need not tarry in the city of the dead. Gather- 
ing her babes about her, she may hurry away and be safe. No: — her 
heart is "'too big," for that. Fondly, embracing the dear partner of 
her life; with the lovely Jewess of old, she says: "Entreat me not to 
leave thee, or to return from following after thee : for whither thou goest, 
I will go ; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge : thy people shall be my 
people, and thy God, my God : where thou diest, will I die, and there 
will I be buried : the Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but 
death part thee and me." 

But every lovely characteristic of the natural heart, however beauti- 
fully displa}red, during these moments of trial, is thrown far in the shade, 
by the noble heroism of the disciple of Jesus. He is not influenced, 
solely, by natural impulse. His every movement is based on principle. 
He has a work to perform ; and he piously asks : ' ' Lord what wilt thou 
have me to do ?" — Censured he may be, by those who have not learned, 
in the school of Christ ; and his steady unshrinking intercourse with 
the distressed, and the dying may be deemed inconsiderate. Continu- 
ing to throw himself, into the most dangerous positions, he may be 
scorned as a fool. But God is with him ; and he is not afraid. Unlike 
the„ambitious man, who may, also, in his blindness, be willing to expose 
himself to danger, for the sake of applause — this man, with probabilities 
against him — with scarce a hope of present safety — this man has made 
the Lord his refuge, and his fortress ; and in Him does he trust. — 
That same God has given His angels charge concerning him ; and he 
shall be " delivered, and honoured." Such christians, wc have seen in 
this community, No sectarianism shall exclusively claim them. They 



is 

&te God's people : and their noble fidelity shall bring lasting renown tci 
the church Catholic, without distinction of party or name. 

Such then are the developements of character, which result from the 
terrible dispensations of God, towards the children of men. Under 
these trying and appalling circumstances, we learn more of ourselves, 
and of our fellow men. We find, that, after all, the scriptures have 
not given too dark a picture of the depraved heart — but to our joy also, 
it becomes apparent, that to poor, fallen man, there are yet left some no- 
ble and generous impulses ; and more important than all, the delightful 
truth becomes clearly demonstrated, that, "the Christian" — the true 
and faithful Christian — " is the highest style of man." 

4. But there is another aspect, in which, it becomes us to view this 
subject, before closing our remarks. These terrible doings of our God 
are, doubtless, intended to be regarded as the -evidence of His displeas- 
ure at sin. He hates sin with a perfect hatred ; and He has determin- 
ed, that it shall ever be punished, as a vile and abominable thing. This 
world, it is true, cannot be regarded as the theatre, upon which He 
shall display Himself in the fullness of His wrath. The present is, for 
the most part, a season of probation. In eternity, He will make 
His power known. "It is appointed to man, once to die; and after 
that, the judgment. Nevertheless, even in this world, God often fol- 
lows the sinner, with a deserved, but limited punishment. Sin, indeed, 
is always accompanied with a sting; and sometimes, the connection be- 
tween the oifence and the reward, becomes signally apparent. But, we 
are not, in all cases, tc decide, that they are greater sinners than others, 
who are the subjects of special sufferings. Our Saviour has instructed 
us, in relation to this matter, in the allusion which He makes, to the 
Gallileans, whose blood Pilate had mingled with the sacrifices, and to those 
upon whom the tower of Siloam fell, and slew them. He speaks plain- 
ly, upon the subject, and assures us, that these persons had not been 
distinguished as transgressors. But, w r e are not to infer from these 
teachings of the Savior, that sin is never punished in this world. That 
would be entirely contrary to the teachings of His word in other places. 
In the old testament scriptures, we have abundant testimony to this 
point; and we are assured that "' though hand join in hand, the sinner 
shall not go Unpunished." God may, indeed, bear with him for a time — ■ 
He may permit him to flourish as the ' : green bay tree ;" but sooner or 
later, he shall have evidence, that, although " sentence against an evil 
work is not executed speedily ;" he has only been " filling up the meas- 
ure of his iniquity," and that presently he " shall fall by his own wick- 
edness." These remarks bear with the same truth, upon the history of 
communities, as upon that of individuals. Neighborhoods, cities, na- 
tions, all sin ; and sinning in their collective capacities, they deserve 
punishment in the same. The histories of Babylon, and Nineveh, and 
Tyre, and Egypt, and even of his once favored people, the Jews, remain 
as evidence, of what he can do, when any people, however great, have 
long continued to c : dwell carelessly ;" and ' ' through the pride of their 
countenance," choose not to " seek after" Him. 

In the ninety-first Psalm, we have a special intimation, that one of 



20 

the modes, in which the Almighty manifests His displeasure at sin, is 
by sending ' v the pestilence that walketh in darkness, and the destruc- 
tion that wasteth at noonday." These are emphatically denominated 
' ' the reward of the wicked/' We may speculate in regard to their ori- 
gin ; and after a full investigation of the subject, we may arrive at some 
sage conclusion: based, it may be, upon natural principles, or upon some 
adventitious combinations, which must necessarily have produced the re- 
sult. We may attribute their existence, if we will,, to second causes; 
but I tell you my friends— or rather Grod tells you, that they are " the 
reward of the wicked." Let us seriously ponder those awful words in the 
twenty-sixth chapter of Leviticus. " If ye will not hearken unto me, but 
walk contrary unto me ; then I will walk contrary unto you, also in fury ; 
and I even I, will chastise you seven times for your sins." And again: 
"If ye will not yet for all this hearken unto me, then I will punish you 
seven times more for your sins, And I will break the pride of your 
power ; and I will make your heaven as iron, and your earth as brass. 
And if ye walk contrary unto me — I will bring seven times more plagues 
upon you, according to your sins." 

I shall be met here with an objection, somewhat plausible. It will be 
asked : Do not the righteous suffer even as do the wicked ? — and we shall 
be pointed to the devoted servant of God — perhaps to that honored am- 
bassador of Jesus* — faithful and true — the friend of our order, and one 
of us — who fell at his post ; leaving a testimony that none can dispute ; 
and who now wears in glory the martyr's crown. Perhaps, I say, we 
may be pointed to such a man ; and the enquiry may be sneeringly 
urged : — 'And are these terrible dispensations the reward of the wicked V 
— Sainted brother ! — what is thy response ? — Hear that voice from Heav- 
en ! — "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord ; they rest from their 
labors, and their works do follow them." J Tis even so. Yes, minister 
of Jesus— thy work was done !— No idler wast thou in the vineyard of 
thy Lord. Thou didst faithfully bear the heat and burden of the day ; 
and now thou hast thy reward ! — ' ' Let me die the death of the righteous, 
and let my last end be like his !" 

But the caviler is not satisfied with this. It is not enough, for him 
to be informed, that death is no calamity to the Christian. He under- 
stands not that song, which the saint so joyously sings ; and which is 
the echo of his full and pious soul : 

" Who, who would live always, away from his God ; 
Awy from yon Heaven, that blissful aho e; 
Where rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains, 
And the noon-tide of glory eternally reigns ?» 

How, then, shall we meet the objection of the infidel? — I answer : The 
death of the Christian is not only a happy release to himself from the 
cares, and sorrows of this miserable life; — it is also, a chastisement to 
the sinner, whom he leaves behind. The world is better that he lives. 
It is by his efforts, and through the influence of his holy example, that 
virtue is perpetuated on earth. Let the righteous be removed to their 
reward — let the pious be no more found amongst men ; and then, what 
shall this world be ? — Ah ! — there is evil enough here now. After all 

*B.ev. Vernon Eskridge, late Chaplain in the U. S. N. 



21 

the prayers, and tear:;, and efforts of good men, we still find it a heap 
of ruins — a wretched eharnel house. But. if there were no virtue on 
earth — if there were no Christian principle, to light up those gloomy 
shades — then, 0, then, how much more dismal, must become the abodes 
of men ! Let it be remembered, that Christians are " the salt of the 
earth." It is for them, that the world is kept in being. Some such men 
have lately been called from this community — we feel their loss ; and 
long shall we feel it. Citizens of Portsmouth! "Hear ye the rod. 
and who hath appointed it !' : — " Help, Lord ; for the godly man ceas- 
eth; for the faithful fail from among the children of men !' ? 

APPLICATION. 

And now, my brethren, it becomes us to make a suitable application 
of this discussion. It has been our lot to experience the terrible judg- 
ments of the Almighty. In His inscrutable Providence, He saw fit, 
during the last summer, to send into our midst a pestilence so malignant 
and irremediable, that it must be noted, hereafter, as an era in the his- 
tory of this land. It was a sorrowful day for the cities of Portsmouth 
and Norfolk, when the steamer "Ben Franklin," was moored to the 
wharf at Gosport. She came freighted with ruin ! — When her hatches 
were removed ; and she belched forth her pestiferous breath upon the 
filthy suburb, the whole atmosphere, in that vicinity at once became in- 
fected. The disease was not endemic. It did not originate there. At 
that point, it is true, its fatal progress commenced ; but it was not a 
spontaneous ignition. The stubble was there, ready, at any moment to 
be consumed ; but had no match been applied, the fire had not yet been 
seen. The opening of that hold, was the application of the spark ; and 
though the fire burnt slowly, and secretly for a time ; so combustible, 
were the materials upon which it played, it presently spread far and wide, 
with a devouring flame. 

The ship arrived at Gosport, on the 19th of June ; where she remained 
for repairs. This she would not have been allowed to do, had not her 
history been scrupulously concealed, and the health officer deceived. On 
the 30th of June, three persons were sick near Page's wharf,* with what 
some supposed to be Yellow Fever ; but it was not until the 5th of July, . 
that any case occurred to awaken public attention. On that day, a man, 
who had opened up the hold of the Ben Franklin, was taken sick ; and in 
three days, he died with the black vomit. This created some alarm ; and z< 
connection being traced between the disease, and the ill-fated vessel, she 
was at once, (on the 8th,) sent to Quarantine. It was hoped — and by 
most persons believed — that the number of cases would be few, and they 
confined to Gosport : many, however, were of a different opinion ; and 
those of them, who could conveniently do so, immediately fled. 

The reports, from day to clay, showed a gradual increase in the number 
of deaths ; and the disease creeping slowly, but steadily, at length 
reached the very heart of the city. By this time, hundreds of our cit- 
izens had sought safety in flight; and the population, continuing thus 
rapidly to decline, by the first week in September, there were probably 

*The wharf at which the "Ben Franklin" was anchored. 



not more than 3000* persons in the place, numbering both whites and 
negroes. This was the week of the heaviest mortality ; during which. 
it is supposed, that one hundred and fifty persons were swept off by the 
prevailing epidemic— On the 2d day of Sept. which was the Sabbath, 
thirty-six persons died during the twenty-four hours ending that morning. 

But, from this time, onward, the Fever seemed gradually to abate : 
filling every heart w T ith hope. No one however, could feel safe, until 
God in His mercy, should be pleased to send another messenger, the 
Frost : which all believed would be more powerful than the Scourge. — 
The first hard frostf occurred on the 26th of October ; and greatly to 
the comfort and rejoicing of all, that first palpable frost banished the 
pestilence from our midst. " Blessed be the Most High God who hath 
delivered us from the power of this dreadful enemy." 

Let us sum up this work of the Almighty — this terrible work, which 
He hath wrought in Portsmouth ! — How shall we estimate it ? Come 
with me to yonder grave-yard, — behold it! — what a spectacle ! — A few 
months ago, the number of burials in Portlock's cemetery, had been 
comparatively few. It was only in a few spots, that the fresh turned 
earth indicated a recent interment. A large portion, of that broad en- 
closure, is now covered with graves. Side by side, they range in scores. 
The whole surface seems to have been disturbed, by some strange com- 
motion. There it is — a marred and broken field — its history written 
upon its own bosom, and a tale of woe coming up from every rough,- 
and unmarked mound ! ! 

The number of deaths, officially reported, as occurring in the town of 
Portsmouth, during the prevalence of the epidemic, is one thousand and 
eighty. It is probable, however, that this estimate falls much 
below the. truth ; as it is generally supposed that many deaths occurred 
of which there was no report. It will doubtless, be safe to say, that at 
least Twelve Hundred persons, belonging to this place, J died of the 
yellow fever, during the four months of its continuance. Of this num- 
ber, one hundred and twenty were heads of families ; and in forty-six 
families, both father and mother were taken away. The number of 
children who have thus suddenly become orphans is not definitely known . 
As far as can be ascertained, it is not less than two hundred; and there 
is reason to believe that it may considerably exceed that number. 

What scenes of distress, do these statistics present to our minds ! — How 
many parents' breasts have been wrung with anguish ! How many fe- 
males have been left in widowhood, to bemoan the lost object of their 
affections ; and it may be, to drag out a life of poverty, and neglect! — 
How many smiling children, have been left in orphanage : no more to 
experience a father's care — no more to know a mother's love ! — Truly, 
' ' The blind have been brought by a way they know not ; they have been 
led in paths, that they had not known !" But thanks be to God, He is 

*Of this number, perhaps, not 200 escaped sickness. 

tA slight frost occurred on the Sth October, which had a sensible influence in 
abating the Fever. A few new cases existed after the 26th ; but they can all be traced to 
exposure aud imprudence prior to that date. 

{Several died in Baltimore, Richmond, and other places. — Bob Butt, the mulato sexton, 
affirms that he dug, during the Fever, with the assistance of ten hands, eleven hundred ana 
fifty-nine graves. It is known, also, that graves were dug by others. 



23 

able to "make darkness light before them : and the crooked ways 
straight." 

We have assembled this day. my bretheren. in memory of .some who 
belonged to our order; and to receive the lessons of wisdom, which God, 
in His Providence, is addressing to us, with whom they were once asso- 
ciated, in the bonds of Friendship; Love, and Truth. Twenty-eight 
members "of Old Dominion Lodge, No, 5," are among the victims 
of the Fever. They were once as active, and as buoyant as any of us. 
They were our friends — we knew them well; and we loved them. As 
citizens, they were good men and true ; engaged with zeal, in the avo- 
cations of life ; and endeavoring to illustrate the principles, of our noble 
Institution. They were useful men in the community; and their loss 
will long be felt in this town. But they have heard the call of the 
Grand Master on High ; and we shall see them no more on earth. — 
And, who are they that have left us ? 

Isaac Ander ton, Vernon Eskridge, John T. Nash, 

Robert Ballentine, Harrison Ferrebee, Robert Nelums, 

Samuel Brewer, James H. Finch, Robert T. Scott, 

Wm. P. Brittingham, John W. Forrest, Wm. T. Snead, 

Nathaniel Brittingham, Robert A. Graves, John W. H. Trugien, 

John D. Cooper, James Hanrahan, Jesse N. Veale, 

George Chambers, George Hope, Wilson W. Williams, 

Charles Cassell, William Jones, Richard Williams, 

D. P. Daughtrey, James Mayo; Richard C. M. Young. 

What a work of destruction ! — 0, the terrible doings of God! ! 

"Who would not fear thee, 0, King of Nations, for unto thee doth it 
appertain ?" 

These twenty-eight brethren, have left eighteen widows, and thirty- 
seven orphans, incapable of taking care of themselves. All of those 
widows and orphans are now, in a measure, committed to our charge. 
We are bound, by the principles of our Order, to look after and to care 
for them. It becomes us, to be true to our trust — and shall we not be ? 
Yes, our hearts, at this moment, yearn towards them; and with the 
blessing of Jehovah, they shall not want.* 

"Our offering is a willing mini 
To comfort the distressed ; 
In others' good, our own to find — 
In others' blessings blest." 

And now my bretheren, I have only to add — God did not send this 
fearful pestilence to be disregarded. In His infinite wisdom, He has 
scourged us — but He has designed our good : 

"Behind a frowning providence, 
He hides a smiling face." 

*01d Dominion Lodge, No. 5, has paid since the commencement of the epidemic 
with the assistance of sister Lodges. 

For widows' benefit "-•---•--$4 500 
" Funeral benefits of brethren, - - - - . . . '^q 

" " '•' wives of do. - - . . . . jgp 

' Sick, benefits - - - . . . . . 660 

Total » $5,980 



24 

Shall we not. then, be improved? I believe, that happy results have 
already accrued from this dire calamity. Christian hearts have been 
drawn closer together; and party distinctions have been forgotten — benev 
olent sympathies have been brought out — the energies of good men have 
been aroused ; and methinks some thoughtless ones have been made to 
realize, as they never have done before, the vanity and shortness of life. 
But there have been other results, far less interesting. Many, it is to 
be feared, have become settled in their indifference ; and are now more 
hardened in sin than before the Fever. "Because sentence against 
their evil works has not been executed speedily, their hearts are fully set 
in them to do evil." God grant, that they may, even yet, be arrested 
in their mad career. 

Let us, who are of this noble Order, " fear God ; for that is wisdom." 
Let us not be satisfied, with that commendable charity, which induces 
us this day, to care for the helpless and the destitute. "Pure religion 
and undefiled,, before God and the Father is" not only " To visit 
the fatherless and widows in their affliction," but also " to keep ourselves 
unspotted from the world." But who can keep himself unspotted from 
the world, without the fear of God before his eyes? — Our duty is first 
to Him who made us, and then to our fellow man. — "Jesus said unto 
him" — that is to the lawyer who tempting Him, asked, "Master, which 
is the great commandment in the law ? — -Jesus said unto him, Thou 
shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and 
with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the 
second is like unto it. Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On 
these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets." 

We are now, my bretheren, at the close of the year — at the close of 
this year of chastisement and trial. Yes, 

The year 



Has gone, and vjith it, many a glorious throng 
Of happy dreams. lis work — is on each brow, 
Its shadow— in each heart- In its swift course, 
It waved its sceptre o'er the beautiful— 
And they are not. It laid its palid hand 
Upon the strong man— a.nd the haughty form - 
Is fallen, and the flashing eye— is dim. 
It trod the hall of revelry, where thronged 
The bright and joyous— and the tearful wail— 
Of stricken ones— is heard, where erst the song, 
And reckless shout — resounded. 

It came, 

And faded like a wreath of mist at eve ; 
Yet, ere it melted in the viewh ss air, 
It heralded its millions— to their home. 

Brethren — we, too, must die. "To that great event we must come 
at last; and we know not how soon ! — The honors of the world, the ap- 
plause of men, birth, wealth, fame, all end with us, in that ' narrow 
house.' " And that ' narrow house ' shall introduce us to the Judgment. 
Who, of us, shall be welcomed as " good and faithful servants" into the 
joys and glories of Heaven ?— " We that overcometh shall inherit all 
things." 






\Skpi ) 



%\t ttxxxhh hoings of §a)i 



A SERMON 



DELIVERED IN THE 



COURT ST. BAPTIST CHURCH, PORTSMOUTH. VA. 

N 

SABBATH MORNING, DEC. 30, 1855, 

COMMEMORATIVE OF TWENTY-EIGHT MEMBERS OF OLD DOMINION LODGE. NO. V, 
WHO DIED DURING THE LATE EPIDEMIC. 

BY 

ISAAC W. K. HANDY, 

PASTOR OF THE FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, AND MEMBER OF THE ORDER. 



Published by Request of the Lodge. 



Ylfct 



II 



PORTSMOUTH: 

PRINTED AT THE DAILY TRANSCRIPT OFFICE. 
1856. 



MS?&^^^ •S^r^iiiig 



k^K^H-* 




._ 



pi 



mj» 


>n* 


}S> 


:0* 


»e» 


^T 


»> 


^>3a* 


» 


:>I3* 


>3» 


^ 


08> 


^L 


fC» 


^C^fc. 


m» 














^>^3* 



^ - — <£^* 


£> J£--» 


V -il* 


» i3>J» 


KMfT) Ji 


>> Z2>3> 


>< --^^ 


J> 3»L> 


^"^t ? 


> 2*C> js 


,? ^^ 7 


> :^*> :» 


^^J* A> 


— =^^?^ -^ 


s»"J> >i "- 


? ^> T_^^ U 


> rs^> ..^ 


3r2> ^3^> 3 


> 2K3» 3 


">>S> ~^I3^ "2 


* J>^» y> 


5^> ^^^' 




rSgT ^1^^" 


a J2>3> 


A 3 -^ 


^ ^^ 


> ~?>> ^ 


^> r^ 


3>~5S> 


<^ ^* 


* > ~3l> : 


■>s> ■ ^> 


• * j>> 3 


^ ~^» 


> >~> >-■ 




9 ^ar> -> - 


:>S> ^> 


»^S> > 


^>|> . ^ 


> >3> 


>^ ID 


» 6 ^[> ~^> 


:>S> ^> 








► » ■> 


j*>t> r- 


> » > 


3>2> 


~> 3> 


I>>3> r 


> » ;> 


> ^> 


>■ ;>;> -> 


"> s^> r 


> » ^> 


>: 5> 


:> » :> 


""V>. ^.T'k 





j> j> 


Jm^ i 


:> 2> 


TZ*r>Z 


:> :> 


Z3K>X> 


^> ~> 


^s>x 


3 2> 


^*> §3 


^>»~S> 


I»33 


^> I> 


;^»^3 


^> > 


~»~l: 


T> >Z> 


r3§>*^ 


^> >1> 




3 2> 


^^^x 


:> >^> 


^»^> t: 


3» 


^>> 


> >z> 


^K>ia 


:> ~>^> 


~Z3K> 3>5 


3>7> 


T^E>1> 


>->>> 


^K>!» 


> >z» 


^»> >^ 


>*m> 


~^g>^s- 


>^>s> 


^>> "■>> 


> >5>:r> 


^> > 


> >>7> 


~^R>>> 


> s> ^> 


^»^» 


► >5>~7-* 


^*-» » 



o^> 


» 


>0> 


» 


>3> 


J» J^ 


^> 


> 


>3> 


1 M 


>» 


> >v 


^> 


3 >> 


» 


a» » 


>•> ^ 


■ . ^»» • 


-» 


> 3> 


->^» ^ 





J> J> ^> 3" 



;> > > 



3£> - 


> 3> 


>> 


> 


^>> 


> 


^5£> 


> 


OD 


) 


^fc> 


ae 


ZX> 


>i 


^» 


2> 


I» 


2D 


^3G> 


s>- 


^*> 


> 


» 


•>' 


"X> 


3T 



jm >^> 



3*> ^> > : 



JS> -5 ^2* 


► 7> 3x 


5TJ 


► __ 


^» ITS1* 


z>:>5 


z» 


:> 


»> >^S 


► "DdE 


s 


► J3 


:*> s> z^* 


>ag 


:> 


ZJfc 


m> » "SEP 
3^ >/"J2> 


7> :>-:>Z3 


» 


3*> 


3»">*S 


> 


~JK> 


*> 3KS2S 


Z>2 23 


► 


I» 


» ->•■- Z30» 


2> >'S3> 


~~~ 


>r> 


^ >T> "ZXi 


► >>~5: 


>^ 


^3D 


^ 3ssc35 


► :>rx 


> 


:>:> 


* ^£35 


► > -J §: 


> ; 


:» 


► ^>:t3q 


► :>>:>: 


> „ 


» 


► » 3S 


► 3> t: 


> : 


>I> 


► > > rx: 


* ^ s: 


» _ 


Z8» 


^ ^> ^^ 


a* ->:> >- 


> 


:x> 


^ .>» Z3 


C* » I 


►> 


» 


* ~>»j> 7-3 


E>^ i 


ar* 


^m 


► Z3g& - 


»^>> 


> 


:s* 


► ;> > ~T 


iC* >j« 


» 


:j^ 


L 35J-5 - 


S^» ^jg 


:> 


S^ 


^ 1*23> 




* -v 


—«^ 






_>£» 




>i>> 




» 




» 




i»> 




SK> 




r> > 




■>r»' 




^SS" 


S 


O 


> 






